Harper's Young People, February 7, 1882 / An Illustrated Weekly

HE WAS DRINKING COFFEE OR SOUP OUT OF A CUP FILLED FROM A BOTTLE IN THE HANDS OF A LITTLE GIRL.
The Dicksons were spending the winter in Paris, and Art, who was fourteen, resolved to make the most of the grand opportunity thus afforded him of thoroughly exploring the handsomest city in the world. He had done the galleries, the churches, the prisons, and the palaces with the rest of the family; but now that all the principal points of interest had been visited, his mother and sister became absorbed in dressmaking and millinery while his father spent hours at the Herald office reading the American papers. As neither of these occupations was lively enough to suit the taste of an eager, restless boy like Art, he took to going off on long exploring trips by himself, up, down, across, and around the city!

Now, Arthur, do, I beg of you, be careful, his mother would say to him. If you could speak French, I wouldn't worry, but as it is, what if you should get lost?
Why, I'd just call a cab, sing out through my nose as loud as I could the name of our hotel, and I'd be back here —Art was going to add in no time, but recollecting that he was not supposed to be riding behind his father's fast team in New York, changed it to some time.
One morning he had planned to spend on top of an omnibus running on a route he had not yet been over, but on awaking he found quite a snow-storm raging in the air, although the flakes melted as soon as they touched the heated pavements.
Now Art had not seen snow before all that winter, so when it had cleared off he determined, instead of taking his omnibus ride, to walk out to the Bois de Boulogne and feast his eyes on the genuine article.
He set out about eleven, walking at a brisk pace in order to be back in good season for lunch at one. There was plenty to see on the way, so although the distance from the hotel to the Bois was a long one, it did not seem a great while to Art before he came within sight of a pure white covering of snow on tree, shrub, and grass. His boyish heart thrilled at once with delight, although he could not but acknowledge to himself that a hill and a sled would not have come amiss. As a substitute for these he fell to making quantities of soft snow-balls to shy harmlessly at nowhere in particular.